


On The Other Side

by major_arcana



Series: Cigarettes and Crucifixes [1]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Demonic Possession, Newcastle Crew, Other, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3539948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/major_arcana/pseuds/major_arcana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine exorcism for the Newcastle Crew takes a turn for the worse</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Other Side

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus  
omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio  
infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,  
omnis congregatio et secta diabolica." 

The flames of the candles burst into high streams, licking at the ceiling, their shadows seeming to dance with malice across the walls of the dingy flat. Our voices rose in attempt to drown out the scream coming from the poor soul strapped to the bedframe, his body arching into impossible shapes against the mattress.

"JOHN!" Gary was wide eyed, his whole body shaking.

"Shut it, Gas! I don't want to hear a fucking word from you that's not latin!"

"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine"

The room fell to darkness, the candles barely ablaze. It was cold, but a deeper cold than simple temperature. It was the kind that shot straight to your bones, that sunk into your lungs and filled your veins with ice. My heart, which beat against my chest only moments before felt as if it were in slow motion. And it was dark. From the inside of my mind until I could no longer see John's furrowed brow before me, it was so dark. But I could hear my own scream with such heavy, real clarity before it all went away.

I woke in pain, with the strange awkward feeling of having been dressed by someone else, the discomfort of things not feeling quite right, only it was my skin. The smell and taste of metal filled my senses, and I frantically rubbed my hands over my jeans to clean them off, hoping it was my own.

"John!" My voice came out a feeble, exhausted whisper into the night air. Where was I? The roof? How long was I gone, and how did I get here? A million questions raced through my mind as I struggled to my feet. I cried out in anguish, looking down at the shards of glass, shining through the trails of crimson on the dirty concrete.

To my left, a heavy thud of a body slamming forcefully against a door sounded; one, two, three, followed by a muffled cry I barely discerned to be my name. I began to gingerly walk to the exit, softly crying for help.

And suddenly, like a switch, the coldness. And a voice like nails on a chalkboard, yet like a hard blow to the head, screamed through my body. It commanded me to turn, to go to the ledge towering ten stories above the pavement. And I couldn't, I didn't want to defy it. Even when I heard to door give in behind me and the sound of footsteps and shouts at my back, when I felt myself pulled back from the edge of the building, I shouted in pain as the world shrunk away.

"Rose....Rose. Come on, luv. You can fight it, you HAVE to fight it, Rose."

Once again the world swirled back into focus. An off-white ceiling lead to off-white walls in an empty room, save for the wooden chair beneath John, and, to my dismay, a rusting metal bedframe to which I was currently hand-cuffed. Instinctively, I rattled against them, but to no avail. A heavy sigh rattled through my chest.

"You know," the feeble trace of what remained of my voice brought John closer. "I usually require a safeword when these come out"

A smile grew at his mouth with a small laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes, which remained worried, and pissed. "You're giving us quite the scare, Rose."

"I don't understand, John. What went wrong?"

"I don't...Something broke the circle. The demon passed to you after Jim died."

"Jim's...?"

"Aye. But you can't give in."

"I feel fine, John. A bit knackered, yeah, but f--"

"Richie and I had to carry you screaming bloody murder from the roof. He, Chas, and Frank could barely hold you as I tied you down while Anne-Marie dosed you in holy water. She's in the next room, still passed out after collapsing when you---"

"STOP!" I closed my eyes, turning from him as a hot tear fell down my face. I hated that I couldn't wipe it away, burning in embarrassment when I opened my eyes to see his visage once more. I looked down from his gaze, resting my eyes on his hands, wringing themselves around a small chain.

"Is that?"

"'fraid so. Sorry, doll." He held up the broken necklace, a blackened crucifix swaying back and forth. "Had to cut it off from 'round your neck."

My hand reached for it, stopping short against the cuffs. He hesitated before placing the cross against my palm. It burned like a hot plate against my skin, and the distinct stench of burning flesh filled my nose as my whole body flinched away from it. He let it fall to the floor, lighting a cigarette and pacing across the room.

"I put out a wire for a certain Doctor. He'll be here tonight and we'll get this thing out of you."

"Can you promise that?"

A cloud of smoke slowly circled around his head, in a way comically reminiscent of a halo. And I found myself laughing at it, hysterically, uncontrollably. Until I realized it wasn't me laughing, and I was screaming into the darkness.


End file.
